


Sneak Peek - While We Breathe

by Gowombat83



Series: Cullistair [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Gay Sex, Loss of Virginity, Love, M/M, NSFW, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-22 13:30:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13765170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gowombat83/pseuds/Gowombat83
Summary: Random snippets from my Cullistair WIP





	1. Curious Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two young Templar recruits overhear a drunken conversation about the things some boys get up to in the dark, and finding they have a mutual curiosity about it, they decide to explore the possibilities together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of my stuff is beta'd and I suck at editing, there are very definite mistakes and bits that need reworking.... I'll get around to it eventually ;)

The room was steeped in the deep shadows of midnight, and the air had begun to take on that damp chill that settled in those darkest hours that preceded the dawn. Despite the late hour Cullen lay awake in his bunk, staring into the nothing. Recently he’d found he spent more and more nights this way; in his bunk facing the wall and eyes wide open-  lulled into a thoughtless daze by Alistair’s rhythmic breaths from across the room. But tonight the silence is different; there’s a tension in the figure lying in the opposite bed facing the wall, his breathing is too quick and shallow- Cullen knows he’s awake and he knows that somehow it has to do with a certain conversation among the recruits over their evening ale some nights ago.  

Deep into their cups, being their only night off for the week, the talk between the young men had turned rowdy. Usually Cullen could be coaxed along for one or two drinks at the local tavern before turning in, but Alistair had insisted that he stay for a third and then a fourth. Before he knew it Cullen had downed five tankards of the weak piss that passed for ale, and was drawn into rambunctious ravings of his fellows.

Templars being a primarily male vocation, the girls were housed in a separate part of the cloister and rarely intermingled without supervision. Which is why, drunk and randy, the discussion had turned bawdy. It only took one inebriated boy to start bragging about his claimed sexual conquests and the rest soon followed. Every one of them knew that the stories were just that- fancies they dreamed up in their bunks late at night as they took care of themselves, or daydreams conjured in their foggy ale-addled minds. Cullen was content to sit by nursing his drink and listen to the loud boasting that grew more and more unreal. It was only when their tales turned to how one boy had caught two others mid-tryst in the Chantry that the stories seemed to ring more true; the tone of their retelling somewhat less aggrandised.

There were others, too. More stories of what “other” boys got up to when segregation of the sexes was enforced upon burgeoning young men and women. It was only natural they’d find other outlets amongst themselves. Cullen kept his silence, which wasn’t unusual in such company; but he also noticed that while Alistair laughed along he contributed nothing, and it could well be the alcohol but he thought he saw a slight blush across his roommates nose when for one brief moment Alistair’s eyes darted to the corner where Cullen sat, and hazel met topaz for a breathless pause, before quickly turning back to listen intently to another retelling of forbidden lust- and something about mabari?

Cullen was no longer interested in what they were saying, his thoughts turned inwards at the realisation that he wasn’t the only man who’d experienced certain feelings or had particular urges about another. While his expression was a carefully schooled mask of amusement and mocking, inside he was in turmoil- the way Alistair had looked at him, could it be possible his best friend and bunkmate was feeling the same way?

The following few days had been awkward between them; Cullen rising early to begin training and avoid being alone with Alistair, in the mornings, when they changed clothing- and Alistair suddenly seemed to find himself occupied late into the evenings, returning to the room on tiptoe to avoid waking Cullen, and stripping for bed in the dark. Both politely choosing to ignore that the whole thing was a complete farce, nodding along and laughing off the flimsy excuses when they did cross paths in hallways, or at meals, or during training.

The gathering tension between them, and their efforts to avoid each other was driving them to exhaustion, which was why Cullen had only just extinguished his candle when Alistair stumbled into their room. Facing the wall he pretended to sleep, though Alistair’s hesitation in the doorway told him louder than words that he knew- the candle still smoked on his bedside table.

Alistair huffed a quiet sigh as he stepped into the room and closed the door. His bed creaked and Cullen could envision him sitting there; shoulders hunched, hands dangling between his knees as his arms braced his weight on his thighs, and the silent hurt in his beautiful hazel eyes. It was too much, they were best friends, the estrangement was wearing on them both and he knew Alistair had more practice at bearing such torments in silence. The thought made Cullen’s heart wrench; Alistair had suffered, they’d talked about it often over the years over many sleepless nights and long treks and quiet afternoons when they were meant to be studying. The last thing Cullen ever wanted was to be the cause of more pain.

Cullen was too smart and introspective to confuse it all as mere friendship- he knew his feelings for Alistair, and while they scared him a little he wouldn’t try to lie to himself about them. He knew there was a very good chance they’d never be reciprocated and had made his peace with that, but not even being friends- _that_ he couldn’t accept.

By the time he’d gathered his courage and rolled over Alistair had divested himself of his gear and was in his own bed, blankets pulled up high, facing the wall- his broad shoulders and back now a familiar rigid line in the dark.

“Alistair,” he whispered, noted the shape flinched at his voice, “Al? I know you’re awake.”

Alistair sighed and rolled onto his back, “Hey Cullen, sorry, did I wake you?” his reply too casual to be natural.

“N-no, I was awake….” the pause stretched out awkwardly, he didn’t know how to fill it, how to start- he just knew he had to get them back to being friends.

“Okaaay….. good, I guess. Um, was there something you needed?” he sounded confused, and weary. Cullen hated that he felt he had to put up a wall between them, that he felt he needed to protect himself from Cullen. It was that hesitance in his friend, the growing distance that frightened him more than anything, and prompted him to speak. He didn’t have a plan, he just knew that if he didn’t try now he may lose Alistair altogether.

Turning on his side to face the other bunk Cullen took a deep breath and plunged in, “Al, you are my best friend, and things have been… weird. I think…. I think that maybe it’s because of that night, at the tavern?”

“I-I, uh, don’t…. know what you’re….” stammered Alistair.

“Please Al, please don’t,” Cullen pleaded, they'd never lied to each other, he couldn’t bear that Alistair felt the need to now.

“I know, I’m sorry, I….. “ Alistair shrugged and huffed a sigh. He rolled to his side to face Cullen, the first eye contact between them in almost a week. Cullen had to take this chance to fix things.

“How…. how did that, what they were talking about, how did that make you…. _feel?”_ he began tentatively, keeping his tone as neutral as possible.

“I don’t know, boys talk like that all the time, I never, I never really…..” he trailed off. Honesty, they’d promised each other the truth, “I felt warm and sort of uncomfortable, but, not in a _bad_ way, exactly. I wondered…. what that would _be_ like….”

“You were curious?” Cullen asked carefully.

“I, yeah, I guess….. I guess I was curious. And the first person that came to mind when,” he cleared his throat gruffly before continuing, “when I looked over at you, you had this look, and I felt foolish for even considering…. anyway, you’re not interested so that’s fine, but…. Cullen, can’t we still be friends? I…. I _miss_ you.”

Alistair stared intently at a spot on the flagstone floor, the muscles of his jaw dimpling as he clenched and released with tension. Cullen suddenly let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, incredulity at what he’d just heard sweeping over him. Firstly, that Alistair _was_ interested, and second that it was Cullen he was interested _in_! He took a moment to steady himself while his heart raced with fragile hope.

“Alistair, I…. I’m curious too…. about you I mean, … I’m curious, too,” he let a shy smile gently curve the corner of his mouth at the admission. It was easier, knowing that he wasn’t alone in his feelings, at least partially. While he couldn’t deny to himself that what he felt for Alistair was more than just a physical attraction, though that was certainly a factor, he couldn’t be sure his friend felt the same about him. Perhaps it was just a boyish curiosity; a hormonal urge, the only outlet for which was usually a recruits own hand. Perhaps the possibility of a new experience was what intrigued him and their friendship and deep trust in each other was what made him think of Cullen.

The look of cautious hope that filled those hazel eyes when their gaze met across the darkened room gave Cullen a flutter of warmth;  if that’s all he was willing to offer- two friends exploring, experiencing together- Cullen was prepared to take whatever Alistair would give him.

“Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“Really, Al.”

“Oh, well, um…. that’s….. that’s really, nice,” he smiled, big enough to unearth his dimples- a smile which Cullen returned.

They lay for a while in the silence, each digesting confessions made in the dark. After a while Cullen scooted back on his bed till he was almost to the wall, he folded down the corner of his blanket with a tentative question in his eyes, “Al, do you want to…. would you like to come over here, with me, for a little while? Maybe?”

“I… yeah, yes, uhhmm,” Alistair pushed away his own covers and crossed to the side of Cullen’s bed. Like most people they both slept naked, there was little room for propriety when sharing living space, but now Alistair’s cheeks pinked as he stood bare before Cullen. Sensing his discomfort Cullen pulled back the woollen blankets further uncovering himself, so they were both equally exposed. It seemed to help when Alistair offered a lop-sided grin and slid between the coarse sheets beside him.

Tugging the blankets back up to cover them both to the waist they lay in the quiet for a time, acclimatising to this new sense of closeness. Alistair on his back, head turned to lock eyes with Cullen who remained on his side, giving his friend as much room as he could.

“You know, with the late hours and early mornings, there’s been no time or privacy to _take care of business_ ,” Alistair whispered, a hint of his trademark humour creeping back into his voice, “I swear, I’ve been half hard all week!” he chuckled, breaking the tension. Cullen laughed too, burying his face in their shared pillow to muffle the sound.

“Maybe I could, help you with that….” Cullen teased when his shoulders stopped shaking, slowly pushing his hand across the sheet until he touched skin. He felt Al shudder as his fingers and then his palm brushed over Alistair’s hip. He paused, wanting to allow him time to stop it if he felt it was too much. When he didn’t pull back or push his hand away Cullen let his body roll a little closer until their legs touched and his chest rested against Al’s arm.

A tingling heat radiated out across Cullen’s body from their contact, his hand still pressed to his side began to move again, ever so slowly downward until his fingers encountered the tell-tale cluster of wiry curls low on Alistair’s abdomen. He could hear his breath hitch as he so gently tickled the coarse thatch, eyes intently watching for signs of discomfort or rejection. Alistair indicated neither.

After a moment Cullen shifted again and gingerly wrapped his long fingers around the unfamiliar shaft- it was definitely more than half hard. He gave a gentle squeeze, Alistair’s hot velvety length a pleasing weight in his palm. At the hissed inhalation from his bed-mate he flexed his hand again, and tugged, this time eliciting a breathless groan as Al arched up into the contact.

Gaining courage from this he began to stroke him, feeling his cock expand in his grasp. Alistair was longer and smoother than he was, if not quite as thick- it was an impressive cock, and at its fullest it excited Cullen. His own swelling appendage lay ignored between them, pressed hard against Alistair’s thigh.

“Is this… is this okay?” he asked softly, wanting to be sure. Alistair could only nod; eyelids fluttering and hands fisted in the sheet as Cullen pumped him.

When he felt confident that Alistair wasn’t going to push him away Cullen rolled away and pulled on Als opposite hip. At his gentle encouragement Alistair moved closer to the centre of the bed. When he was laying underneath him, Cullen repositioned between long muscular legs, he reached over into his bedside drawer to retrieve the small vial of oil he’d secreted away from the infirmary.

“Where did you get that, were you expecting something?” Al poked fun, quirking an eyebrow.

Cullen chuckled, blushing, “No, well, _yes_ , I suppose I was _hoping…._ but that’s, uh, it’s also for _personal_ use…”

Alistair drew roughened fingertips down Cullen’s brightly coloured cheeks, grinning broadly, “I’m only teasing,” he soothed, “I remember what Grieg said… it was, _clever_ of you to be prepared,” his hand rested at the nape of Cullen’s neck, eyes warm and welcoming.

“Do you… Ali, do you _want_ this? You can say no, we can stop at any time, I don’t want you to… I don’t want this to ruin….” He was babbling, he knew he was but he couldn’t stop himself.

“Cullen, it’s okay. We’re okay. Are _you_ okay?” Alistair’s crooked smile never faltered, their awkward fumbling apparently endearing. Snapping his mouth shut Cullen nodded, they both giggled at and felt relief as the mood relaxed. Reassured, he opened the vial and coated his fingers. Alistair shifted beneath him, parting his knees wider to frame Cullen’s hips in a subtle invitation. Cullen braced himself on one forearm by Alistair’s head and reached his slicked hand between them.

Maintaining eye contact he traced the contour of Ali’s rigid shaft, down the cleft of his sack and circled the tight pucker between his cheeks. The hand on his neck flexed and the sharp inhale from his bedmate made him brave. Cullen teased and caressed, tickled and tweaked until Alistair was panting and writhing beneath him. The sounds he elicited as he breeched and stretched him were pure music to his ears, and he’d never been harder in his life.

“Alistair?” he waited for him to open his eyes and meet his gaze, a question in his golden depths.

“ Yes, Cullen, I’m… I’m okay,” Alistair nodded, his own hazel eyes soft and imploring.

“This, this isn’t how Grieg described it, we can… if you want,” Cullen was suddenly nervous again, the older boys words rattled through his mind-

_You don’t kiss them, write them poetry or other nonsense, they’re not a girl you’re trying to woo! Just flip them over on all fours, oil them up, and take what you need like a wild mabari! It’s just a hole, an oasis in a drought, lads!_

“No, this is, this is good, I….I’m good just like this,” his eyes were blown to black, lips parted and breath short as he looked up at Cullen. He smiled suddenly, “wild mabari!’ he laughed, and Cullen couldn’t help laughing with him.   

They held that contact; piercing topaz fixed intently on darkened honey as Cullen grasped his throbbing shaft and pressed against Alistair’s entrance. Both chests heaved, short sharp breaths through open mouths as he eased his way in. A rough groan rolled off Ali’s tongue as he broached the first ring.

He paused only a few inches in, waiting for him to relax until his lover gasped, “Keep, keep going… please.”

Cullen resumed his gentle humping, pushing his thick, ridged cock deeper; feeling the muscles constrict and release as he seated every inch within Al’s slick heat. Cullen gripped his side, still hovering above on one arm, and ground his hips in a few small experimental movements. The breathy shout that elicited made him freeze, “Ali, are you alright?” the concern evident in his voice.

“I… I am, please, don’t stop ….. I like it, ….. Cullen it’s _good, please….”_

Not wanting to hurt him he started slow; each pull out and slide back in was a single, smooth thrust- a moment of pause between each individual movement. He found a rhythm in the long careful strokes, and when Alistair began to move with him, hips grinding at the height of each deep push, pleasure building low in his belly, he realised-

 _This_ was _sex_. He was having sex, _they_ were having sex! Together.

_I am having sex, with Alistair!_

The enormity of it flooded his blood with a thrilling heat. The initial shock and awe quickly burning away to pure affection as he moved inside of him, as he gave him pleasure- as he loved him.

As he loved him; with his body and in his heart- Cullen loved him.

Ignoring every word of the crass advice and thoughtless condemnation Grieg had spouted in his drunken stupor, the only part of this that felt wrong to Cullen was that he was inside of the man he loved, but he hadn’t even kissed him yet. Suddenly he needed Alistair to know- this was more than a boyish rut in the dark, more than mindless release. He needed to kiss him.

“Alistair,” he said softly, drawing that perfect hazel gaze to meet his own. When the fog of pleasure cleared a little and he was sure he had his focus Cullen lowered his mouth to press over Alistair’s in a sweet kiss. A heartbeat later his chest exploded as he responded in kind.

They kissed with passion as their bodies rocked together, they explored each other with lips and teeth and tongues, every touch filled with tender kindness; it was more than lust- it was desire.

Cullen was adrift on a cloud of pure sensation; the heat and the friction as they moved together, the surging pleasure, the silky wet slide of skin on skin, the taste of him on his tongue, the smell of arousal and sweat, of roses and sweet hay and clean, damp earth that was uniquely Alistair, the symphony of their mingled breath and wet flesh meeting flesh, of sighing moans and whispered endearments filled his ears and his heart.

Feeling Alistair flutter around him Cullen knew they were both close. Reaching between them he grasped his lovers cock in a tight, wet fist. Alistair sucked in his breath and began to thrust into the resistance he offered, his walls clamping hard around Cullen’s cock brought him to the edge in a rush. Determined to bring Alistair first Cullen covered his mouth with his own in a deep probing kiss and squeezed.

The writhing body beneath him suddenly stilled and arched; the rock hard cock in his hand throbbed with each spurt of seed and he eagerly swallowed every wanton mewl that accompanied.     

Only when his lover had ridden out his orgasm did Cullen allow himself to chase his own. When he felt one firm finger trace its way down the cleft of his ass and push hard behind his balls, the dam of Cullen’s pent-up pleasure burst in a heady rush; his hips stuttered and back arched as he shoved himself as deep as he could into Alistair’s pliant body, he muffled his wordless roar in the curve of his shoulder as he bit down, and emptied himself in thick pulses of spend.

Muscles trembled and quivered against each other as Cullen collapsed bonelessly over Alistair’s chest. The taller man chuckled fondly at his breathless gasping and trailed featherlight fingertips over his sweat-slicked back as he waited for him to come back down from the high.

“Hey, there you are,” he murmured, a gentle smile on his lips as Cullen slowly raised his head to peer down at him. He ran long, elegant fingers through Cullen’s damp curls, his expression one of soft affection.

“Here we are,” Cullen hummed, leaning into the touch.

“That, was _nothing_ like what Grieg described in the tavern,” Al observed with a wry twist to his lips.

“I… I know, I’m _sorry_ , Ali… I’ve never, I didn’t…” Cullen felt his chest restrict, had he misread the queues, had he overstepped and destroyed his friendship?

“Cullen, stop. There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Alistair’s brow crinkled in a light frown, he reached up to caress Cullen’s cheek, drawing slow ellipses with his thumb, “I never wanted to just _fuck_ you, like wild mabari or whatever,” he snorted, twisting a pale curl around his finger, “I… I want you. I’ve wanted _this_ , with you, I just….. didn’t know you felt the same. You hid it well you know.”

“I… Al, Ali, are you _sure_? I mean, you know what this means for us? We can’t be _together_ outside of this room, they’ll never understand….”

“That may be so, at least for now. But inside this room, I will belong to you, _completely_. Whatever happens through the day, every night I will be here, with you. It’s not perfect, it won’t be easy, but it’s worth it…. _you_ are worth it, Cullen.”

“Then, whatever happens Alistair, I’ll always come back to you, right here.”

Cullen’s heart felt like it was on the edge of bursting when Alistair cradled his face between his large rough palms and drew him down into a deep kiss- it was all the affirmation he needed.


	2. Teaser 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the fall of Kinlock circle Cullen leaves with HoF and Alistair. Cullen is affected deeply by his experiences and isn't coping.

“Cullen,” Alistair pleaded, swallowing down the feeling of dread low in his stomach. Cullens blow-ups seemed to be escalating. He was on a hair-trigger; everyone but Alistair now avoided him as much as possible, afraid of setting him off. Alistair didn’t know what was worse; the cowering fear that had all but crippled his steadfast companion, or this seething rage that was always just below the surface ready to spill over at the slightest provocation, “I only want to help you! I know –“ he cut himself off with a weary huff and pushed his long fingers into his fringe in exasperation, “I know you’ve been through something terrible-“

“What would you know about what I’ve been through?” Cullen suddenly whirled and roared in his face, Alistair fought not to recoil under the white-hot glare now cutting directly through him, “You know nothing of what I’ve suffered!”

“No, I guess I don’t know _exactly_ what happened to you,” Alistair’s tongue darted nervously to wet his lips, it was dangerous he knew, to push him, but Cullen was spiralling. He needed help, Alistair wanted to help, if only Cullen would let him, “But I was there, remember. I saw what went on in that tower, I fought my way through that nightmare for two days. I, _we_ , found you. Cullen, talk to me, _I’m here for you_ , I want to help you if you’ll just tell me _how_ –“

Cullen slapped away the hand he’d dared to lay on his arm in comfort. As Alistair’s face radiated his hurt he caught the transient look in his lovers heated eyes; a look Alistair was quickly coming to recognise usually preceded imminent pain. He mentally braced for what he knew was coming- Cullen was about to do something horrible.

“What could _you_ possibly do to help _me_?” Cullens scathing retort was delivered in a deceptively low and even tone, belying the viciousness of his words- they were designed to hurt. “A royal bastard no one wanted. A failed Templar. And now what, a Warden?’ his lip curled into a cruel caricature of his usually charming one-sided smile, “Barely. You follow that woman around like a lost puppy, it’s _pathetic_ Alistair! Your entire life is being pushed from one thing to the next; never making decisions for yourself, always following- what makes you think you could do anything worth _anything_ for me?”

Alistair held his breath, the words cut deeply but he tried to remind himself that Cullen was lashing out, tried to convince himself it wasn’t about him, he was just an easy outlet for his true torment. Still, even that didn’t prepare him for Cullen’s parting shot which hit him in the gut like a blow from an ogre, “I don’t need you either, Alistair-I should be with the Templars, and _you_ \- you don't belong _anywhere_.”

Frozen in place, every muscle rigid, he watched Cullen stalk away into the trees. Alistair couldn’t breathe past his constricted throat. He blinked rapidly trying to dispel the unshed tears before they fell, his jaw pulsing with the clenching of his teeth as he worked desperately to keep from crumpling in on himself. Of course only Cullen could hurt him so deeply; only Cullen knew him so well. And he’d used that to press upon all his worst insecurities with pinpoint accuracy.  

The silence in the wake of Cullen’s venomous attack stretched uncomfortably, none of the companions knowing quite how to _be._ Finally, Wynne broke the moment, stepping to lay a gentle hand on Alistair’s forearm, eyes soft with compassion,

“Alistair,” she began softly.

“Please don’t.” His reply is quiet and thick around the lump in this throat, “He’s just – he’s been through a lot. He just needs time, I shouldn’t have pushed him I-“ he lifts a trembling hand to his rub at his mouth, eyes wet and unseeing as they dart around, “I’m fine- I’ll be fine. I just need a moment-“

 Without another word he left the circle of firelight and all but fled into the dark woods on the opposite side of the clearing from his retreated lover. Aware that the others gaped after him in shock but hardly caring, his only thought was of getting far enough away from all of them before he broke.


End file.
